


Hypothetically

by aem77



Category: Nothing Much to Do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 03:33:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2094138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aem77/pseuds/aem77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hypothetically, it is possible she does not hate him at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hypothetically

If she’s being really honest she supposes he isn’t entirely unfortunate looking. While not fully handsome, he does have something of a boyish charm about him. And she can imagine, if she’d allow herself to imagine it (which she won’t), that he may even be good looking in a couple of years. As his muscles follow suit with his height, filling out his tall gangly, but not badly proportioned body. Hypothetically, it is even possible that someone somewhere- not her mind- but some girl might just find him bearable to look at, attractive even. Hypothetically.

And it is just possible, her traitorous brain concludes, as it draws him up again and again in her mind’s eye, that someone might find his features endearing. Hypothetically, of course. She has to admit he does have quite animated eyes. And, she’ll concede, a truly expressive mouth. He certainly says more with those gloating smiles of his than most people she knows could say with a thousand words. If one of his sarcastic smirks could cause her heart to pound and her blood to roar in her ears she blushes to think what effect they might have if engaged in some more pleasant non-smirking activities. She imagines that that mouth and those expressive lips might turn some hypothetical girl’s head.

Hypothetically, she might even not be entirely against everything that comes out of those lips either. Not now of course, when their conversation is all barbs and venom. But she remembers (too clearly if she’s being honest and shouldn’t that tell her something already?) his voice from all those summers ago. When they first met. When they were close. A lifetime ago when she and Hero would race with excitement over to the Hill to meet with everyone. Inevitably she and Bendick would come together sharing his picnic blanket to talk all afternoon about everything and nothing. She remembers once he’d read his comics to her. Not just the conversation bubbles but a running dialogue of every detailed cell. With her eyes closed, face warmed by the sun, her chest had reverberated with his voice almost as if she’d been speaking his words herself. She’d thought at the time it was almost romantic. She thought…well never mind, she’d thought a lot of things. None of that mattered now, but she can imagine that his voice may, hypothetically, make someone feel those things again.

Perhaps Hero and the others are right. Perhaps, like his ridiculous mango skins, she’s been too quick to fear the adverse and too reluctant to see the good in Benedick Hobbes.

Hypothetically, it is possible she does not hate him at all. She may in fact even love him. Hypothetically.


End file.
